Forget the Living
by Millennium Slinky
Summary: Alternate ending and major spoiler warning for Book 5. After the end of everything, Harry has a nice chat with a ghost, but not one of the Hogwarts ones...


Forget the Living  
  
*****  
  
DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Harry Potter.  
  
All righty, folks. I've just finished 'Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix' in a matter of roughly 8 hours 7 minutes...and I swear. The ending killed me - it was a great, lovely, bittersweet ending, but it made me want to kill the person responsible for killing...  
  
So here it is: again, the WARNING. WARNING!! SPOILERS!! IF YOU DO *NOT* WANT TO LEARN WHO DIES IN THE FIFTH BOOK, DO *NOT* READ THIS AND DO *NOT* COMPLAIN ABOUT SPOILING IT, BECAUSE YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!  
  
Please remember...this is an ALTERNATE ending to what happened to Sirius, and it takes place after the fifth book endsd.  
  
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Harry knocked on the door of 12 Grimmauld Place three times and stood back, not knowing whether to be nervous or act as if everything was fine. He didn't know why Lupin had invited him over - there was no apparent reason, even if he was the son of Lupin's boyhood friend - but he knew that something had to be afoot.  
  
Maybe it was seeing the house again that made him somewhat frightened. There were too many memories here - Christmas, before Mr. Weasly had come back from St. Mungo's; the family tree with the names burnt out; the complaining portrait of Sirius' mother still hanging on the wall.  
  
There. He'd done it. He'd said his godfather's name without breaking down into tears or trying to kill whoever he was standing closest to. It had been over a month, and the truth still hurt - the truth he had last month accepted. The mirror hadn't worked. Nearly Headless Nick had dashed his hopes.  
  
He drew in a shuddering breath, trying to sort his mind into order, when there was a soft click and a scraping noise as the door was pulled open.  
  
Remus Lupin stood just inside, as patchy and disheveled as ever, hair even grayer than last month when they had parted. "Harry...come in." He stepped back as Harry entered and gestured him towards the kitchen. "There's something...something that..."  
  
Harry stared at him. "What's the matter?"  
  
"It concerns Sirius...and..."  
  
"He's dead." Harry felt his hands clench into fists. "He's dead. I know that." It hurt to say the words, but truth was truth. "I thought he wasn't. You said he was. I believe you." He turned a suddenly angry gaze back to the werewolf. "Are you saying you lied?"  
  
Lupin sighed heavily. "I didn't lie. But you were right."  
  
Harry drew in a sharp breath. "You don't mean...but Nick said...he's not...?"  
  
"FILTH!! SCUM!! TRAITORS!! YES, HE DOESN'T KNOW, DOES HE?? THE TRAITOROUS DIRTBALL IS STILL HERE!!"  
  
Lupin sighed again. "Hang on, Harry. I'll go try and shut her up..." He disappeared into the darkness of the house.  
  
'The traitorous dirtball is still here...' As negative as the words sounded, Harry's heart suddenly leapt in hope. If the old hag spoke the truth...  
  
That meant Sirius was alive.  
  
...  
  
Or at least partly.  
  
"...I've been trying to get some sense out of the house elf for hours..."  
  
He knew that voice. That slimy, smooth voice. It belonged to Severus Snape, the Potions master.  
  
There was Lupin's voice again. "...the portrait's been giving him orders again, hasn't she..."  
  
And then another voice. Soft and hoarse. "Does Harry know yet?"  
  
Harry's heart almost stopped.  
  
"...no. It's best if you go talk to him."  
  
And he saw something faint and silvery - the shape of a man, a man with a gaunt face and long hair finally brought into some semblance of order.  
  
"Sirius!"  
  
He ran forward, but stopped as his arm passed through the image of his godfather. The feeling wasn't a very pleasant one - it felt as if someone had drenched his hand and fingers in freezing water. "You're a...a g- ghost..."  
  
Sirius nodded.  
  
"But - but Nick told me that you - that you had passed on - "  
  
The silvery ghost shook his head slowly. "You can choose to go or to stay." Nick had said that. "I couldn't leave here, Harry. I couldn't forget everyone...I couldn't forget the living."  
  
"Are you staying here...forever, then?" said Harry. A note of hope crept into his voice at the prospect of being able to stay at Grimmauld Place and be able to stay with the Sirius that was not quite Sirius.  
  
"I...suppose so..." murmured the ghost. "I couldn't bear the thought of leaving you behind. And I knew you would miss me as much as I would you." Harry thought he could see glimmers of silver tears in the ghost's eyes, but didn't comment on it. "Someday you'll join me, and we can both go on. Together."  
  
Harry nodded wordlessly. "Then you're staying here, for the time being?"  
  
Sirius sighed. "I believe so. This was my home - I suppose I'm somehow bound to it. I might be able to go to Hogwarts and take up residence there..."  
  
"But you don't want to."  
  
The other nodded in assent - Harry had said what he hadn't found the words for. "Everywhere holds awful memories...but Hogwarts most of all. No one lives forever; remember that, Harry. Remember that death isn't so bad after all...  
  
"Because I'll be waiting for you."  
  
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Nope, I don't intend on writing more. No flames, please. If anyone has a bit of spare time, could they drop a review for my other HP fic, 'Betrayer of Hope'? I'd be extremely grateful.  
  
But don't forget to review this too, of course. ^.~ 


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